Doubling up

by BRK   

All the dorm rooms in Bryce’s building are being combined with another, and everyone’s doubling up. What isn’t immediately apparent is that it isn’t the rooms that are being merged—it’s the roommates.

They should have had a general meeting of all the guys in the dorm. But I guess it wasn’t feasible—after all, people arrive for their first day of college on their own schedule, and usually they just dump their stuff in their new dorm room and then head out to do their own thing. Tough to call everyone together. So instead, campus housing just stuffed more shit into the big envelope they gave us at sign-in, along with our keys and the memo about not taping up posters because it would pull the paint off the cinder-block walls. I’ll bet some of the guys didn’t even notice—at first.

The dorm seemed abandoned when I showed up. The hallways were echoingly empty, the doors and their painted-over bulletin boards closed fast and unmolested by the junk people always stick on them when places like this are inhabited and alive. I grimaced. I was early—way early. I set down my suitcases by the beat-up but freshly whitewashed door and fished the room key out of the envelope, detangling the cheap little keyring it was on from a heavy gold chain that was in there as well for some reason. The cylinder of the door lock sounded loud in the empty corridor as it turned.

Bearing the envelope momentarily in my teeth I hefted my suitcases into my new abode and dropped them unceremoniously in the middle of the scarred hardwood floor. The room was small and bare, but bright, lit by a huge window that took up most of one wall—the east wall, I guessed, since it was the just-risen sun that was pounding sunlight through the window onto every surface of the room. Good thing I like getting up early, I thought to myself. The air was cool and still. Dust motes drifted through the streaming sunshine.

I glanced over the long, if narrow, room. There wasn’t much—dresser, desk, chair, bookshelf, bed. One of each. I looked at the bed almost reverently. Two years of dealing with yahoo roommates at this place, and I finally, finally, had clawed my way up the housing queue and gotten a dorm room all my own.

I sat down at the worn-edged desk and upended the rest of the contents of the envelope onto its surface. In addition to a memo about posters (no screws! no nails! no permanent adhesive!), a spare key, and a slip with the name and room number of the floor RA, there was a very serious-looking announcement, printed on a half sheet of goldenrod paper. “NOTICE, RESIDENTS OF TOWER 3!” it said in big letters.

I picked it up to hold it close enough to read (my eyes are not as sharp as the rest of my eagle-eyed family) and read the smaller type underneath: “Unfortunately, the new dorm that was supposed to open this semester, Tower 4, was not completed on schedule. This means that all residents of Tower 3 will have to double up with residents of Tower 4.”

“What the fuck!!” I said aloud, jumping to my feet. I’d finally gotten into Tower 3, which was all singles, and now I had to have a roommate anyway?

“All students assigned to Tower 4 will instead be assigned to the same-numbered room in Tower 3 until the new dorm is completed.” Fuck. I’d driven past what must have been Tower 4 on the way it—it was just a lattice of girders! It had to be months from completion! Fucking state universities.

Wait—that meant my roommate would be sleeping here. In this room. I glanced up, over the top of the notice, and took another look at my bed. A regular, twin mattress—dull white with dull blue stripes, thankfully not obviously stained anywhere from past, er, use—on a steel rectangular frame of springs.

That was not a two person bed.

“What the fuck,” I repeated, astonished.

What did the notice have to say about this? I frowned hard at the little piece of paper, but all it said was, “We recognize that this will make for potentially problematic sleeping arrangements.” Uh, yeah. “Toward that end, and to ensure that no students sleep unhygienically on the floors in violation of the university code of conduct (see Directory, p. 84), we have made arrangements with our graduate division’s Department of Sorcery to provide talismans to both Tower 3 and Tower 4-assigned students.”

I blinked at the sheet. I was pretty sure the department of sorcery at State wasn’t supposed to be common knowledge—only a few potential adepts (or, in my case, their kid brothers) even knew it existed. I blinked a little more. I read on.

“These talismans—“ (I paused over the word as it read it again—should it be talismen? I knew I should have taken History of Sorcery last year) “—these talismans will help both students sleep comfortably in one bed.”

Huh? I suddenly remembered the gold chain that was in the envelope. Sure enough, on the desk, attached to that chain, I’d dumped out what must be my talisman: half a bronze medallion about three inches in diameter, with the school seal depicted on it—I could read the left half of the school motto, VIRTUS UNITA. I guessed that my—fuck it!!—my roommate (sigh) would have FORTIUS AGIT (which together translate as “The united virtue is the strongest”).

I was supposed to have a fucking single this year, I grumbled to myself again.

There was one more line on the notice. It read, somewhat wryly I thought, “Please do not go and yell at your RA about this. It won’t help at all.” I smiled grimly. Talking to the RA not helping at all—what a shock. Seriously, welcome to college.

I dropped the notice on the desk and thumbed the talisman in my hand. It felt normal. A hunk of inert metal. I wished I knew more about magic, but the school only offered a few undergrad courses in sorcery and I hadn’t even been able to find out much about them, as I wasn’t the adept in the family. Of course, none of the undergrad ones were practical—only grad students in the Mg.D. program were allowed to practice magic, and even then under careful supervision—but I felt ignorant, looking at this medallion and not knowing what it would do.

Perhaps I could tell if I put it on. I felt an urge to anyway. I drew the chain over my head with both hands on either side, keeping it away from my thick, curly hair, and dropped it onto my bare neck. The chain felt cold on my skin, and I could feel the weight of the half-medallion against my sternum through my thin tee-shirt, but otherwise, nothing.

“Vertus Unita, I presume,” said a voice. I looked up, startled. There, standing at the door smiling crookedly at me with two stacked boxes in his arms, was my new roommate. My tall, gorgeous, lanky roommate. He nodded at my half-medallion.

I smiled back. “Or Bryce. Fortius Agit?” I said in what I hoped was a winningly sardonic way.

“The same, but most call me Stu,” he said. “I’d bow, but then I’d dump my clothes all over your stuff.” I realized my suitcases were in his way and hurried to move them to the side. I took the boxes from him and set them down by the bed, which somehow was now … slippery … in my mind. The bed. The bed—for some reason I couldn’t think about the fact that there was only one single-occupant bed. It didn’t seem weird, exactly, because the whole topic just slid out of my brain and vanished.

Now that his boxes were out of the way, I could see that he was wearing his half-medallion, which was indeed the right half of the seal. It was resting on his bare, hairless, just-muscular-enough-to-be-called-buff chest, which was as tan as the rest of him. I realized was getting aroused. I looked up and our eyes locked. His were sharp, mesmerizing, blue-green, bottomless. As naturally as breathing, without any kind of jarring realization, I knew I wanted to be next to him, with him, inseparable from him. Our arms were around each other, without our realizing it, as if it were the most ordinary thing.

“Once we’re done with this hug,” he said, his big hands drifting lazily across my back, “do you think you could help me with the rest of my stuff?”

“There’s one problem with that,” I said, and I realized I was whispering it in his ear.

“What?” he breathed back.

“We’ll never be done with this hug.”

He laughed softly. “Well, I’m sure we can figure out a way to walk and hug at the same time.” And we did: after a while of just enjoying being wrapped up in each other, we ended up heading down to his car side by side, our arms wrapped tightly around each other. It became a kind of game. All the rest of that day we found a way to be at least touching each other, if not pressed up against each other, side to side or increasingly my front against his back. And we were hard, constantly hard and throbbing in our jeans, our big dicks huge with arousal—not from each other so much as from being together, from having found our natural state and finding that being together was simple, constant joy.

The only strange thing was that I felt like I was feeling both our boners as we walked across the campus, our arms tightly wrapped around each other, me behind him with my arms around his torso, our legs pressed together and falling into perfect step as easily as your heart beating—but that all seemed normal too, the walking together and the shared sensations, and I wondered how I’d gone so long feeling only my own hard cock.

Our entire bodies seemed hard and aroused. Standing in line to get dinner at the compact little dining hall in the basement of our dorm, I was behind him, my arms wrapped tightly around his torso, and as we stood there I was acutely conscious not only of his tight shirtless torso under my hands, his broad back against my comfortably bare chest, but of his hard perfect ass, pressed firmly against my crotch—and of my own ass, which felt even harder, even more perfect. And I could even feel, somehow, like a ghost of a sensation, my crotch pressed had against his steel-hard ass.

It took me a while to realize that all the other guys from our dorm were paired off too. In fact the cafeteria was filled with pairs of hot guys, most of them shirtless, who were walking in and out or standing in line or sitting down at the tables, all contently mashed together front to back or side to side as if pressing bodies with your roommate was something no one thought twice about, or could do without for that matter. I noticed Kyle and Les, who were already good friends last year, mashed together front to front near the entrance, both shirtless and looking a lot more built than I had thought they were, and they were talking intensely with each other and obviously unable to stop staring into each other’s eyes.

Stu and I sat down, Stu in my lap and me reaching around him to hold the tray we were sharing—it was piled up with food for us both—and just for a second as we were sitting in perfect unison I thought it should be awkward with Stu being taller than me sitting in my lap, because I’d be staring at his shoulder blades for the whole meal—but then the thought vanished and I observed that our broad, naked shoulders were almost perfectly lined up when we were sitting—just like they were when we were walking pressed together. I tried figuring out why, but the idea became “slippery” somehow and I stopped thinking about it. I lowered my chin slightly to rest it on Stu’s firm delts as Stu fed us, lifting the first of the three cheeseburgers we’d gotten, first to his mouth and then to mine. I loved that I could taste the burger both times, the rich warm taste of the meat and the sharp cheese they used and the sweet onions, and as we ate wondered a little why the taste was stronger in my mouth than with his. Shouldn’t they be the same?

“Hey Bryce,” said a sexy voice, and Stu and I both turned a bit to see my roommate from last year, Chen, leaning his cute face out from behind the head and long black hair of the smiling fitness-model-buff hunk he was plastered against. We exchanged hellos—Chen met Stu and I learned that the boyishly gorgeous hunk roommate was Andy—but I was staring at my old roommate with a tiny edge of confusion. Like me he’d come over to the table carrying their tray in front of both of them. I marveled for a moment that I’d been remembering Chen as short and not at all memorable physically, but from his shoulders and arms he was nearly a match for the big-pec’ed, eight-packed, broad shouldered, narrow-waisted fitness mag cover boy with the incandescent smile that he was mashed up against, but I completely forgot about all that as I glanced down and noticed they were wearing a single pair of jeans—four legged jeans.

“Where’d you get those!” I said in awe. The jeans looked amazing on them, hugging their long swimmer’s legs in all the right places, and best of all it looked like Chen and Andy’s torsos were growing out of a shared four-legged base. I felt both Stu’s big cock and the even bigger boner I had pressed against Stu’s rock-hard ass throb in unison as we took in the sight.

They both laughed as they sat down next to us—right next to us, so our bulging shoulders and stacked legs were rubbing together. “Dumbass, you’re wearing the same thing,” Chen said.

They nodded at our waists and sure enough, I looked down, leaning back from Stu slightly to get a better look, and we were wearing four-legged jeans too, though in a lighter, more broken-in version then theirs. How had we—? Had I forgotten—? I frowned and leaned forward again, having felt a weird twinge at being away from Stu’s warm, bare torso even by a few inches, and went back to pressing my heavy pecs against his shoulder blades. A wave of smug satisfaction washed over me as I felt Stu’s pleasure at feeling my thick chest pressed against his perfect bod. I smiled sheepishly. “I guess we just hadn’t noticed—”

“—how good they look on another couple,” Stu finished.

Andy was nodding vigorously. “We’ve been boned all evening checking out the four-legged jeans,” he said. “All those muscle asses,” Chen added.

“Yeah, we can tell,” I said, shoving our shoulders against theirs playfully. They stayed pressed hard together. It was my turn to nod toward their lap where two conspicuous extra-wide boners were thrusting several inches up out of their jeans and were leaking precum all over Andy’s impossibly tight ten-pack. From my vantage point I could see into the gap between Chen’s abs and Andy’s lower back created by Chen’s improbably big pecs, and I could see Chen’s cocks standing tall and thick and leaking excitedly too.

Chen rolled his eyes. “You’re one to talk,” he said wryly. He leaned his head forward slightly so he and Andy could sip from a big glass of Coke with two straws.

“Like we can help it,” Stu said balefully, glancing down at the three monster cocks thrusting up out of our—his?—lap, all of them half again as big as Chen and Andy’s. I couldn’t see my trio, but I could feel them pressing lightly against the undersides of my pecs and painting the bottoms of the hard muscles with pre. “These things won’t go down,” I said resignedly. I realized I was stroking one of Stu’s wrist-thick cocks with one of my right hands. But it felt normal, and as I glanced around the room at all the heart-stoppingly hot hunk couples casually caressing the clusters of fat cocks standing huge out of their four-legged jeans with whatever hands they had free, I realized it was normal. I caught sight of Kyle and Les again—fuck, they were tall and hot—and I felt a twinge of envy that all six—or eight? I couldn’t remember—of their leaky, precum-covered torpedo-thick cocks were all pressed together between them. I wondered if they knew anymore whose were whose.

I used another right hand to start idly stroking the nearest of the three beefy monster boners trying to fill the cramped space between my torso and Stu’s—even as one of my left hands wrapped around one of Chen’s hard poles. Andy and Chen both sucked in a breath, and I could feel Stu’s hand wrapping around the nearest of Andy’s impossibly thick triplet of monster cocks.

“Tell us about it,” Andy said softly, responding belatedly to my comment about our cocks not going down. I paused, my brows knitting as I thought about the idea of cocks not being superhard and leaking. Did that happen?

Suddenly, as Stu/me and Chen/Andy stroked each other, our thick legs pressed together, our bulging arms woven through each other, slipping on the slightest sheen of sweat I felt Stu start to cum, a titanic cum explosion from the cock I was pounding with my front right hand, and it spread ferociously through us like a chain reaction, so that all eight of our enormous cocks came hard and violently, over and over, and I felt it spread to Chen/Andy too, so that their ten cocks suddenly blew as well, spraying enormous quantities of cum all over everything. In fact I realized through my ecstatic haze that the whole room was full of couples and all of our mighty cock clusters were exploding with gout after gout of hot cum.

Stu and I recovered somewhat a few minutes later, still blissed out but becoming aware that we were all covered in cum—and so were the remains of our dinner. Stu playfully picked up a cum-covered french fry and fed it to Andy, who ate it eagerly and laughed. In fact the cum-covered fries were better than you think, but even finishing those off we drew the line at the remaining burger.

Now that we were all in afterglow I felt a need to get back to our room and be alone with my bodymate—and peel off these cum-soaked four-legged jeans, of course. We stood up carefully, trying to make sure our big bare feet didn’t slip on the cum-covered floor, and Chen/Andy stood up too. We embraced, intertwining all our thick-muscled, still-sweaty arms, and kissed, a big, messy cum-covered four-way kiss. Stu and I left first—Chen/Andy hadn’t eaten any of their burgers and were going up to get a fresh batch that wasn’t covered in jizz. Though Chen was worried that, considering the cafeteria workers we could see were both cum-covered hunk couples like us, they might have to wait for all new burgers to come out from the kitchen—unless things in there also looked like a cum thunderstorm had hit like it did out here. We laughed and, licking some cum off their cheeks with our long tongues, left them to their foraging and headed upstairs.

Upstairs we unlocked our dorm room, ducked under the doorjamb, and closed ourselves in our space. Immediately we started shucking our jeans, with some difficulty, until at last we were standing tall and naked, our heads a few inches from the stuccoed ceiling, feeling the cool breeze on a shared body that was somehow covered in cum, from hair to ankles. We kind of loved it.

But we had to get into bed at some point, which meant cleaning up. So we grabbed one of our extra-large towels and started carefully cleaning our body, especially the slightly sensitive area under my cocks where our torsos were delightfully merged. Finally clean, we padded to our extra long bed, already made up with sheets and a down comforter for the cool night ahead, and as we got in on our sides and I wrapped all my arms around Stu’s god-muscled torso I sighed contentedly and thanked my lucky stars I’d gotten a roommate this year after all.

Stu and I woke up with the sun the next morning, feeling remarkably refreshed after a night of very pleasant dreams and looking forward to a Saturday to ourselves. The morning light sifting through the thin amber blinds installed throughout the dorm was warm and buttery. We felt insanely comfortable, wrapped up in each other like this, and we didn’t want this languid moment to end.

I heard Stu chuckle and felt the brush of humor against my own mind, and I opened my eyes lazily. Stu had the front torso of our body and so was quicker to notice our first problem of the morning, and I smiled into his bulging shoulder.

“They’re not really actually tangled,” I told him softly, nibbling his hard traps at the same time, though the truth was I was not exactly in a hurry to pull my arms out of the snarl of limbs wrapped around our long, impressively muscled front torso. In fact I squeezed tighter with all my thick-muscled strength, tightening the apparent knot of his arms mixed with mine as if our arms were indeed trapped in some kind of knot that only got tighter as you struggled, like a Chinese finger puzzle. I let my soft morning whiskers drift across his neck. Stu gasped at the sensation, and I was delighted to feel all our cocks flex with sudden intensity and push out fresh doses of our thick and copious precum. A jolt of pleasure coursed down both our spines, and I took a long, happy breath.

I squeezed our arms together, wiggling our bodies as we snuggled under our oversized covers. “Sure looks like they are,” Stu giggled.

“Hm, maybe you’re right,” I said thoughtfully, a soft voice in his ear, and we shivered again. “I wonder how we could get them free?” As if experimenting with possibilities I tried flexing my eight-inch-thick pecs against his broad back—first the upper set, then the lower, then both together; but though expanding my impressive chest against his back did push us apart us apart a bit, Stu just held on tighter, enjoying, like I was, the delightful intertwining of our long, thickly muscled arms just as much as the heartening knowledge that we could not, truly, be separated for real. Further down the bed our long, thick legs were loosely laced together too, though there weren’t quite as many of them to contend with.

I kissed his neck. We were very aware of how our big, fat, always-hard cocks were slicked up with precum an aching for release—especially mine, trapped and jostling in the tight cock-cave between my usually slippery twelve-pack abs and the equally precum-slicked small of Stu’s back, leaking in a steady trickle against my lower pecs. We loved how the space was so thoroughly filled with cock that any motion—any twist of our torsos, even sometimes just the act of sitting down and feeling them all slide and shoulder each other around, sensitive, self-lubricated skin sliding together in multiple, constant contact—threatened to drive us instantly to the brink of orgasm.

We were starting to pant and we were squirming with deep arousal. Stu moaned as I nuzzled his long, wavy chestnut hair, and I moaned too, because I knew we both wanted to see if we could make ourselves explode in orgasm just from this, just from waking up horny and aroused and snuggling our body together, without even touching our cocks. It was a challenge, because while the jostling, beyond-hard cocks crammed into the cock cave between our torsos were out of the action (and totally self-stimulating in any case), our front cocks were slightly bigger and several of them were pushing insistently against our lower arms as they remained in their tight, knotted up hug—in fact the hairless forearms of most of our lower arms were as smeared with glossy pre as our lower torsos were. But we stuck it out, using our hands wherever they were trapped to stroke the hard, thick, sweat-sheened muscles of our arms and Stu’s four muscle-dense, tightly-compressed, even-bigger-than-mine, foot-thick pecs.

One of my hands found the nips on Stu’s upper left pec and we both shuddered, driven suddenly to the very edge of orgasm. “That’s cheating,” Stu wheezed with a laugh, and we twisted together harder, anxious for release. My fingers brushed the two arousal-pebbled nips I’d found, then deftly pinched them while I used my nose to nuzzle aside Stu’s thick, silky hair and started to passionately kiss and mack on the extra-sensitive nape of my body-mate’s neck. As I devoured his firm, sweet neck, mouthing and lathing and teething we both enjoyed the fierce spikes of arousal this produce. He started to growl and I growled with him, feeling everything. Our entire body felt flushed and then, suddenly, we felt the tingle of burgeoning orgasm. We squeezed our arms, our legs, our torsos together as if we were nothing but a huge, eight-foot-long slippery cock, and then we were cumming hard, blasting our not one but twelve immense, gut-wrenching, mind-frying orgasms. It seemed to last for ages, cumming and squeezing and kissing and crying out, and then we were drifting, suspended in a post-orgasmic haze that was as pleasant as pretty much anything we’d ever experienced.

We rolled onto my back, the heavy weight of our front torso, Stu’s torso, feeling very, very nice against my swollen cocks and heavy, stacked pecs. In this position our arms naturally relaxed, and a couple dozen hands fell out of our intertwined embrace and dropped naturally against the bed or onto each other. Our legs relaxed too, the front three falling gently in between the back three. In fact we were feeling boneless and sated, as if we’d been saturated from heads to feet with something that cleansed away every tightness, every imperfect, and left you awash in raw, ecstatic pleasure. We luxuriated in the way gravity was solicitously doing the work of pressing all our thick upper arms and strong, lightly fidgeting hands against each other in a way that was most agreeable, and in the pleasant way our body seemed to enjoy recovering, our honeydew-sized balls in front gently refilling even as our breathing normalized. Stu let his head loll back into the crook of my neck, and I kissed the side of his face gently before licking up a dollop of cum from his cheek, enjoying as usual the sensation of both the lick and the taste, and of being licked as well. We spent a while just laying there, fondling our hands, enjoying the long, suspended moment, delightfully spent and blissed out from our epic orgasm.

We were just hazily deciding that a long, hot soapy shower might feel good when there was a sudden, excited rapping at our door. Sighing, but content with having woken up in the most perfect way possible, we climbed out of bed and shuffled to the door, stooping a bit under the slightly-too-low ceiling. I reached down to turn the knob, instinctively knowing to ration my strength and only use a little of it (since I didn’t want to crush the knob or wrench it off in my hand).

When I opened the door I smiled to see Chen/Andy bending to see me under to doorjamb. They grinned back, drinking in the sight of us obviously flushed, sated, and covered in cum. They, on the other hand, looked freshly washed and made a damn fine picture in their six-legged jeans and nothing else.

“Good morning!” Chen cackled, delighted to have caught us in such a condition. We just shook our heads at them and stood aside, letting them into the room, and once they’d bent under the doorframe and straightened up, more or less (Chen/Andy, like us, were a bit too tall for this old building), Stu reached up with one of our left hands and, wrapping a strong hand around one of Andy’s thick necks, gave Andy’s boyishly gorgeous left head a long, deep good-morning kiss. I didn’t try to kiss either of Chen’s sexy-cute faces, since the immensity of our pecs meant even Andy and Stu had to mash their chests together pretty hard to reach, but it didn’t matter because I could enjoy every sensation of the kiss—the lips, the tongues, everything, and obviously, from the groans escaping his lips, Chen could as well. Though I did kind of wish Stu had two heads, too, if only to be able to kiss Andy properly, all at once. But Andy’s other head was leaning forward and mouthing Stu’s sweat-salty delts, and that felt nice also.

We all pulled each other into a tight embrace. I roamed a dozen hands over Chen’s broad, long back, letting a few sneak into Chen’s cock cave, which was even more tightly packed than mine. Our massive bodies rubbed and slid together in our strong embrace. “Mmmf, you’re getting us all sticky,” Chen moaned, all his eyes closed, as the kiss went on, filling all of us with a rich, comfortable sense of pleasure and contentment. “Getting us sticky,” his other head murmured. Andy’s other head reached to lick the sensitive crevices between the three arms hanging from Stu’s upper right shoulder, and I felt our huge, thick permaboners surge with renewed enthusiasm.

“It’s, ummh, good to see you guys too,” I said, feeling unfocused from the sensuous pleasures we were experiencing. It felt very much like that kiss could just keep going on and on indefinitely, and I was pretty okay with that. Andy deepened the kiss, pressing hard against Stu’s mouth and challenging Stu’s long, sweet tongue with his own, and with his other head Andy was licking along the hard, bulging terrain of Stu’s shoulders until he got to the side of Stu’s neck and started mouthing and lathing there even as Andy’s other mouth pressed the kiss, and Stu and I started shuddering with sharp, ecstatic arousal that was wholly different from what we’d been feeling earlier thanks to its being aggressively induced by our insanely sexy neighbors.

Our hands started restlessly wrapping around Chen/Andy’s cocks, and their hands were doing the same with ours, much to our relief. This was no experiment to see if we could casually drive ourselves to orgasm. This was primal, immediate need. I felt some frustration at how difficult it was to get at the cocks in Chen’s tightly crowded cock-cave. He had to have at least eight monster cocks back there, which were two more than I had in mine (if not more). And they were ridiculously thick—even the ones I managed to grasp I couldn’t get my hands all the way around—but it didn’t matter. Steady supplies of slippery pre meant we could jack each other energetically even as Andy’s two-pronged attack on Stu seemed to ratchet up a notch in passion and urgency. Unstoppable euphoria roared through us as we released multiple explosive orgasms for the second time that morning.

Chen/Andy were cumming too, firehosing blasts of hot cum from all their cocks and their nips as well, which Stu and I thought was hot as fuck. We came harder, and I would have been afraid of emptying our melon-sized balls if I didn’t know that they were already refilling with gallons of sloshing cum. We collapsed into Chen/Andy’s strong embrace, still stroking their jammed-together cocks, both in their cock-cave and where they pressed into ours between us, and Andy carried on kissing Stu, more languidly now but still hard and intense, attacking his mouth and neck at the same time. It made my spine tingle in a constant undercurrent of stimulation.

“Huh,” I huffed, flushed and happy. My eyes met Chen’s around where Andy and Stu were eternally making out, and he beamed back at me. “Good morning to you too!” I said, my voice breathy from the exertion as much as the orgasms. I noticed Chen’s broad, bulging shoulders were glistening with sweat, his muscles looking big and pumped. “You look amazing,” I added. “We should go and work out sometime.”

“Actually, we just came from a jog,” Chen said, and he was sounding a little winded too. I had managed to get a couple of my hands wedged in behind Chen’s jammed-tight cock-cave cluster of oversized towercock erections and I was now using the copious cum and sweat slicking everything in there to slide them up and down, stroking along the two or three cocks I could feel pressed against the front of my hands even as the backs of my hands rumbled along high long, extremely tight abs. I wasn’t even sure what he had back there, but Andy, I’d noticed, was sporting a 16-pack and I guessed Chen was the same.

Chen’s breath hitched in pleasure, and he let his tongue loll a little from his open-mouthed smile. “That’s nice,” he breathed, then he added, “We actually came by to invite you to brunch with the rest of us.”

I raised my eyebrows. “The—rest of us?” I asked. I could feel Stu’s curiosity on the edge of my own, too, but Stu wasn’t exactly giving the conversation his full attention.

Chen’s happy smile became a grin, and he cocked his heads toward the doorway. Two more sets of neighbors were stooping to stare at us under the doorframe, wide-eyed and grinning and covered in their own cum, as if they’d blown their wads just watching us kiss good morning.

I smiled at them for both of us, Stu still busy with other matters, and Chen introduced us. Apparently they’d met up at the dining hall the night before, after Stu and I had left to return to our rooms. On the left were Brent/Kent, twins with identical, deeply gorgeous faces and bodies that looked sculpted to evoke the perfect male form, assuming the sculptor had a lot of marble to work with and liked using it. Everything about them was kind of mesmerizing: their warm, inviting smiles, their long, loose, surfer-blond hair, their pale-golden skin. They each had a single row of massive pecs (which meant their height seemed to be all in the four long, beautifully shaped legs they had packed into their four-legged jeans and their rippling, 20-pack abs), with only four thick but perfectly toned arms in front on Kent and another four on Brent. Most intriguing of all was that instead of cock clusters like we and Chen/Andy had, Brent/Kent had just three massive, spurting cocks in front and another three in back, all of them topping out at their necks and so incredibly wide that even if I stretched one of my hands across one as wide as I could go, I reckoned I’d barely be able to curl round the side even a little with my little finger on one side and my thumb on the other.

“Jesus,” I muttered. Stu, still making out with Andy, was blissfully unaware, but he felt my spiked arousal and pushed deeper into the kiss. Andy, who’d traded heads and was now kissing with his left and using his right to suck and mouth and nibble the other side of Stu’s neck, eagerly responded in kind.

“Yeah, they’re kinda hot,” Chen said breezily, affecting nonchalance, but I felt him gripping our cocks a little harder, stroking several of our suddenly not-so-enormous seeming fuckpoles. Brent/Kent, meanwhile, just smirked, their eyes twinkling, as if they knew they had this effect on people.

Chen nodded toward the remaining spectators, and I reluctantly wrenched my eyes from Brent/Kent just as Brent winking saucily at me. “And this is Chad, Clark, and Gage, from the freshmen triple down the hall,” Chen said. I nodded at them, smiling, and they smiled nervously back at me. The threesome wasn’t as tall us—I figured that when they straightened their eyes would line up with Stu’s and my chins—and they weren’t as stunningly beautiful as Brent/Kent, but they were very handsome and sexy in their own way, like cornfed hands on a sprawling farm where the food made you look good and the work filled you out just right.

And “hands” was definitely the operative word. I knew Stu and I had a lot of hands, and Chen/Andy had a few more than our dozen each, but the threesome—I was already calling them CCG in my head—seemed to be a breeding ground for extras. Despite being shorter, each of their taut, hard-built torsos had three tightly-pressed, compact rows of pecs—and every single pec row had four arms on each side! As my gaze lowered I gaped at the sight of cock-clusters reaching up to the lower pecs that had to number a dozen long, hard, not-too-wide cocks each, all slick like their chests and abs with fresh quantities of their own still-fountaining cum. Wait, they were still cumming? Or was that precum? Or maybe they just came all the time from the constant stimulation of all that muscle and cock sliding against each other? I looked at the one on the middle, Clark, who seemed a bit more flushed and aroused than his body-mates, and I felt a strange twinge of envy. I realized he was holding onto the front torso, clasping Gage’s hard abs behind his cocks with a couple of strong right arms. The upper of these was loosely clasping Gage’s lower right pec, and I now noticed that their hands had a lot of fingers—a lot more than any of us.

I swallowed, then dropped my gaze again and gasped slightly. Even though CCG had V-shaped torsos with wide shoulders and lats tapering to a tight, narrow-enough shared waist, down below they somehow managed to have twelve legs all crammed tightly together—four across and three deep. I goggled at them, sheathed as they were in dark, new-looking twelve-legged jeans and, amazingly, socks and red sneakers. The legs seemed to twist apprehensively under my gaze, and my eyes jumped up to meet theirs. They were looking at me as if they expected me to scoff at their expansion-pack quantities of—everything. I swallowed again and made a point of looking directly into each of their eyes—brown for Gage, blue for Clark, and brown again for Chad—as I said, “You guys look amazing.” They beamed gratefully at me.

Chen cleared his throat, and I looked over at him, eyebrow cocked. “So,” he said brightly. “Brunch?”

It turned out that Chen and Andy were thinking we could do better than the dining hall, so after we toweled off all our layers of cum and finished dressing—which mostly involved Stu and I slipping on our six-legged jeans and toeing into the sandals piled haphazardly by the door—we were out enjoying the bright, cool morning sunshine, ambling unhurriedly for the big, sprawling pancake house a few blocks from campus. Stu, finally induced to break free of Andy for a while, was grinning like a loon, and his mood was infectious. I wrapped a few of my hands around my bodymate in a hug, then let them relax there, embracing him as I gently fondled his pecs. Of course several of our hands were also interlacing with Chen/Andy’s, because it just seemed natural to hold hands with them as we walked.

Ahead of us, CCG was walking alongside Brent/Kent as well, and though they weren’t holding hands they were walking close and kept bumping muscular arms against each other. Most of CCG’s attention seemed fixed on Brent/Kent even though they were striding along side-by-side, but after CCG had stumbled for the third time as we made our way down the wide, perfectly smooth suburban sidewalk, Brent/Kent dropped an arm around Chad’s shoulders and another around Clark’s. That seemed to steady the threesome some, and Brent/Kent didn’t seem to mind their arms slowly getting coated with the cum or precum or whatever it was that CCG was ejecting in steady, constant streams from their dozens of tall, endlessly aroused cocks. This was turning out to be a nice day, I thought, leaning forward to kiss the nape of Stu's well-marked neck, and Stu sighed in agreement as our stomachs rumbled in anticipation.

“I hope you're hungry,” Andy said, speaking up unexpectedly. I realized it was the first time I'd heard his voice above a quiet whisper. It was deep and comforting. “Everything there is delicious.”

“And the food's great too,” Chen added, and we laughed indulgently—though I had to admit I was more than a little intrigued on both score. I squeezed my hugging arms and handholding hands at the same time.

“Can’t wait,” I said.

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